


Choices

by Taamar



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Episode: s02e04 Meat, Gen, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taamar/pseuds/Taamar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Jack thinks before he speaks. Sometimes that changes everything. Sometimes it doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because the fandom totally needs another post-Meat story. I'm posting it here because I'm trying to write something new, and I'm sort of literarily constipated, and could use some encouragement.

_"I wouldn't know anything different."_

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but paused. There are moments in life where everything hinges on a single choice… where a road forks and a decision must be made on which path to take. From long experience, Jack recognized that this was that moment, and he knew that he needed to consider his response carefully.

As they returned from the warehouse, Owen had confronted him about Rhys' inclusion, and about his favoritism toward Gwen. He had pointed out all the times where she'd been allowed more leeway than the others would have been. Jack had argued, had been defensive, but Owen had pursued the point relentlessly, and Jack had been forced to concede. Owen was right- Rhys should never have been taken on the mission, nor allowed in the Hub. And his presence had turned Gwen into a liability in the field. Owen had accused him of endangering the team by thinking with his cock, and Jack, to his shame, hadn't been able to argue.

It had been Tosh who pointed out how Gwen was affecting his personal life. She'd seen his reaction to Gwen's engagement on CCTV, had watched their near-kiss at the warehouse, and had been livid at the display of Gwen snogging Rhys while Jack looked on, brooding. God, Jack hoped Ianto hadn't seen that. It would gut him. He knew Ianto was aware of his feelings toward Gwen, but neither of them mentioned it. Jack wouldn't know what to say, anyway.

He glanced to the side, and there was Ianto, standing quietly aside as he always was, still holding the water bottle Jack had thrown at him without even looking to see if he'd catch it. Ianto always caught it. He was always there to support Jack, while Gwen seemed to exist to challenge him. Even now, Ianto said nothing, just waited with a look that Jack knew meant he thought Gwen would get her way again. There was pain in his eyes; Gwen had as much as dismissed anyone's relationship but her own, and Jack now realized that he hadn't corrected her. Ianto expected him to capitulate, and thinking back on what Owen and Tosh had said, Jack couldn't blame him; he'd never been able to control himself where Gwen was concerned.

It all came back to this moment. He didn't want to lose Gwen. Professionally, it would be hard for the team to get by without her. For all her rocky start, she'd grown into a confident, capable field agent, and she often saw things the rest of the team couldn't. She worked well as a 'face' of Torchwood; people shared confidences with her without realizing. Replacing her would be difficult. And heartbreaking. Because Tosh was right: He'd been far too affected by her emotionally. There'd been attraction between them from the start. Gwen was beautiful and full of life, and he was drawn to her, but here she was choosing Rhys. Or, at the very least, choosing to manipulate him into allowing her to string them both along. With that thought, Jack came to another realization: that he'd been doing the same thing to Ianto with his refusal to define their relationship or discuss exclusivity. He'd been keeping his options open. Ianto had accepted it, not even reminding Jack that they'd never found time for that date. Ianto had done for him what he'd been doing for Gwen- making allowances.

And here was Jack, weighing his options. If he sent Gwen away, the team would be one man down, and whatever had been between them would be over before it began. He and Ianto might be able to sort things between them without distraction. He wouldn't have to fight over every case, and the others would no longer feel they were second-best, but they'd be without the perspective of an unbroken spirit. And Jack himself would always wonder what could have been.

If Gwen stayed, he'd still get to feel the thrill of their attraction, but he'd never again be able to control her; she'd know his threats were empty. The team would remain at full strength, but he'd have to argue every order; she'd do whatever she pleased, which could get one of them killed. The team would be divided. He'd still have this emotional tangle, and no matter what he did, Ianto would be hurt.

Ianto was still watching him, watching Gwen, with an expression of resignation. He thought he'd already lost, Jack realized. And Gwen thought she'd already won. This was the choice had had to make, not between Gwen and Ianto, exactly, but between what they represented. Chaos vs. order, challenge vs. support, excitement vs. affection and acceptance. Jack was caught in balance between options.

Gwen was still staring at him, posture defiant, eyes flashing.

_"I wouldn't know anything different."_


	2. Chapter 2

_ "I wouldn't know any different." _

Jack closed his eyes, then opened them, locked his gaze with Gwen's, and made his choice. "No, but we will miss you very much, Gwen Cooper."

Gwen froze, her stance rigid, her face losing all colour and expression. It was clearly entirely unexpected, which told him that she'd not intended any of it. She'd known, or thought she'd known, that Jack would never call her bluff. And now that he had, she didn't know what to say. The silence stretched out. Jack wanted more than anything to turn to Ianto, to lean on his strength, but he knew he couldn't, not yet. He had to finish this, and he had to do it himself.

Gwen broke from the stare first. "You can't!" she shouted. "This job, it's everything to me!"

"Rhys is everything you, and that's as it should be."

"We can talk about this… compromise…"

"It's too late, Gwen. It was too late when you marched in here with your declaration that you wouldn't follow orders and your demand that the rules not apply to you. You assumed that it's cold and lonely for us, but it isn't. We have each other, our lives depend on it daily, and you've put yourself above that. For our safety and yours, I can't have you on my team. "

At some point, Gwen had started crying, eyes red and tears streaming down her face. "Please, Jack,"

He could feel the burn of Ianto's stare and knew the man was wondering which way he'd jump. Still doubting, but at least no longer sure that Jack would give in. "Go home. Give Rhys my love, and I'll see you tomorrow. We'll talk about options."

As Gwen turned to leave, Jack saw a flash of relief on her face, and a hint of triumph. He _would_ reconsider. This truly wasn't a decision to make in the heat of the moment- he'd talk to the rest of the team first. Owen and Tosh stared at him in silence. He'd seen the looks on their faces when Gwen had flung her hurtful words, but they hadn't said anything; they'd apparently wanted to stay out of the line of fire, and Jack couldn't blame them. He and Gwen had a history of explosive confrontations, and they'd already said their pieces before she came in. They thought he'd give in, too. No one believed he would say no to Gwen, and that was telling. He must have let her get away with more than he'd realized. Ianto had been standing behind him for most of the confrontation, so Jack- as usual- had no idea at all what the man thought, but he knew Ianto would support him whatever his choice. That sort of loyalty, both professionally, and personally, was one of the many things which made Ianto so extraordinary. Jack knew he could make this decision for the good of Torchwood, and Ianto would understand. He'd discuss the various options with all of them, hear them out and consider their opinions, but in the end it had to be his decision. Torchwood wasn't a committee or a democracy, something Gwen had never quite understood.

Ianto looked pointedly at Tosh and Owen, then subtly twitched his head. They took the hint, gathering their things and leaving through the cog door. Ianto waited until they were gone, took a deep breath, and spoke. "And tomorrow?" He asked, handing Jack the bottle he'd been holding throughout. "What will we do when she comes in tomorrow?"

"I can't take her back. I can't. She'd always think orders were negotiable. She nearly got you killed in there. I couldn't bear that."

"You don't have to— we never talk about… things. I don't need you to say anything."

"I know. I just need you to know. You matter to me."

Ianto looked away, uncomfortable. Jack shared the awkwardness; Ianto was right, they didn't talk about how they felt, what they were to each other. He'd never even thought about it explicitly. Ianto simply _was_ , and they were good together. Ianto never asked him for anything, not time or attention, giving everything he had and receiving only what Jack offered. He had no idea how deeply Jack felt about him; maybe it was time to put in a little effort. "How about dinner? And a movie?"

"How about we get through tomorrow before we talk about a date."

Jack chuckled. "How about we finish cleaning up here, call a team meeting for tomorrow morning, then head back to yours? We can pick up Italian on the way, and I know you've got a bottle of wine. It's not a date, but I don't think I can bear to be alone tonight."

Ianto slid an arm around Jack's waist and pulled him close. Jack relaxed into his embrace. "You don't have to be alone, Jack. I'm here as long as you want me."

Jack buried his face against Ianto's neck, taking comfort in his scent. "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I'm bashing Gwen here. I've tried to portray her realistically, which means some people will say I'm being too kind, and some will say I'm not giving her enough credit. 
> 
> More to come; next up we'll get out of Jack's head.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the last place Ianto wanted to be, but he had long since come to the point where he would refuse Jack nothing. Even if he'd given in the night before, Ianto would have been right there to hold Jack when he shook from the emotional impact of the confrontation. He would never have expected (or asked) Jack to fire Gwen, nor did he truly want it. Yes, there was something between them; neither Jack nor Gwen ever tried to hide it. But Ianto was pragmatic enough to know that Jack's affection (and he never doubted it was affection, not convenience, that brought them together so many nights), his affection was like a handful of water; held gently, it could be enjoyed, but if clenched tightly it would slip away. It wasn't Gwen's fault, anyway. No matter how much the tension between Jack and Gwen hurt him (which he'd deny, if asked), Ianto had known that demanding that Jack change his behaviour would drive the man away. He wondered if Rhys felt the same way about Gwen, or if he had no idea his fiancée's heart was so divided.

Taking Rhys on the mission had been a mistake. Ianto had known it from the very start, but he'd never have directly challenged Jack on a Torchwood matter, not in front of the others, and then it had been too late to point out there were better ways to get into the warehouse than following a man who was untrained, untested, and unfamiliar with procedures. Ianto suspected that Jack had brought him in largely to show off. For all that, he had performed beautifully; it was Gwen's actions that had been the real danger. Placing Rhys above the safety of the team, both in the warehouse and the night before with her refusal to retcon him, risked them all. Risked the world if she did it in the wrong situation. Which is why Ianto was here in the conference room with Jack standing behind him like a storm cloud, Gwen across from him, her face puffy and her hands clenched tightly, and a thick file of amnesia protocols on the table in front of them like an armed explosive.

"Gwen Cooper," Jack said, his voice even despite having spent the better part of the night weeping in Ianto's arms, "You are hereby relieved of duty as a Torchwood operative. You have turned in your Hub passcard and your sidearm, and all access codes have been changed. You will be Retconned, in accordance with Section 5-2.6(a) of the contract you signed when you accepted employment. This meeting is a courtesy to allow you input in your future civilian life." He voice cracked a little on that last bit, and Ianto, without looking, knew the man's eyes were welling with tears. He turned around and saw that he'd been correct. Jack looked devastated, and Gwen didn't look any better. They stared at each other with their usual intensity until Ianto cleared his throat.

"Jack, there's no need for you to be here right now. Why don't you go do paperwork while Gwen and I get through this? I'll call you back to sign off." Not that Ianto wouldn't hate every second, but he'd do anything to spare Jack pain.

"There's supposed to be a witness."

"So go watch on CCTV. Those regulations were written before video existed, and it's not like Gwen is going to attack me. Go." To Ianto's surprise, Jack turned and left. When the door shut behind him, Gwen looked slightly more relaxed, but no less miserable. He rubbed his face with both hands, determined to get through this without an emotional scene. As usual, Gwen was not following the plan.

"You don't have to do this, Ianto. You can talk to him- change his mind. He listens to you."

He sighed. Gwen had never really understood how things were between him and Jack. They talked, yes, and Jack clearly valued Ianto's thoughts, but on Torchwood matters, the captain's word was final. Everything that could be said already had been. Gwen would never know Ianto had argued that she be reprimanded and suspended, rather than released and retconned. Jack had insisted that it was purely a professional decision, but Ianto knew better. He was removing temptation and distraction. He was putting Gwen out of reach, and out of harm's way.

"Nothing will change his mind, and I won't go against him in this. This isn't a chance to negotiate, it's an offer to have some say in the life you're settled into after. Which, technically speaking, is against the rules. Now…" he slid the folder across the table. "This is what I've got for you so far. There are choices to be made, and that's what we'll discuss."

"You must have been up all night, assembling this."

"Oh no, we all have a Retcon file. I built them, and Tosh has the programs ready to change the records and everything. A simple wipe-and-dump could be done in under an hour."

"All of us? Even Jack?" Ianto nodded at that. Jack's file was odd… they couldn't possibly erase everything, and he'd still be immortal no matter what memories he lost. They'd spent weeks trying to craft something that would make sense and stand up to scrutiny. "And if you wrote them, who wrote yours?"

"I did. During my suspension." His had been the first; after Lisa had been killed, Jack had sent him away with the assignment to design his new life. He'd spent weeks deciding how much to give up and what to keep. He'd created a plausible story that explained the loss of Lisa, his missing time, his new residence, and the much higher bank balance he now carried. When Jack had come to him on the day he expected to be Retconned, Ianto had been offered a choice: Take the Retcon and the new life, or come back to Torchwood and rebuild. Ianto hadn't hesitated before giving his answer. "Jack wanted to make sure I knew my options."

"That's- I don't know what that is."

"Same thing we're doing here. We won't just be removing memories, that would leave you with a huge gap, and you've broken through once before. I'm sure you remember how confusing and uncomfortable that was. You won't be taking a pill… Owen will administer it intravenously and without the sedative, which will allow us to build some false connections. When you wake you won't remember either version of your history, but as details trigger your memory, they'll connect with the implanted information. Over time, you'll remember the cover we decide on today as reality, with only a little vagueness. Events we haven't overwritten, like Rhys proposing, should come back mostly intact."

Gwen didn't look happy about it, but it seemed that she now understood that this wasn't punitive. They chose her preferred town for relocation, made up a career in Special Ops (including the event that would supposedly cause the amnesia), chose supporting evidence, and assembled an envelope that Ianto would give to Gwen to help her transition. They also discussed Rhys and how to handle his memory. Jack had agreed that Rhys needed much less removed, as he'd believed Gwen's cover story until a week prior. They needed to explain his gunshot wound, and Ianto had suggested that he became involved in a case. It was close enough to reality, and more believable than aliens, anyway. Gwen agreed readily, liking the idea of leaving Rhys a hero in the story, even if it was fictitious.

When all the details were wrapped up, Ianto held his hand out to her. "I'm sorry about this, Gwen. I wish things had gone differently."

"I know." She looked sad, but not so wrecked as she had before. He hoped at least part of that was the knowledge that her future would be of her own choosing. He hadn't told Gwen, but Ianto had extracted a promise from Jack that they would continue to watch over her and steer events in her favour whenever possible. For the remainder for their lives, Rhys and Gwen would believe themselves blessed by extraordinary good fortune. In a way, this was a much happier ending for Gwen; she'd certainly outlive the rest of them. It had eased Jack's mind somewhat.

"I'll call the others in," he said, "and you can say your farewells. I'm the only one of the team you'll see, after, and you won't know me until you start building false memories. I'll be on hand to make sure you settle in, and that you're all right."

Gwen looked relieved. "Thank you."

Ianto nodded. "It's what friends do.

Later, after Owen had administered the carefully calibrated cocktail of Retcon and sodium thiopental and they had used Gwen's state of conscious suggestibility to implant pieces of the cover story they'd created, Gwen had been taken to hospital. Now Ianto was alone in the Hub, sitting at Jack's desk. Tosh wasn't taking it well; Jack had taken her home and would likely be there talking all night. Even Owen was subdued, and had headed out as soon as he could; Ianto suspected he'd be drinking alone tonight. So the Hub was quiet, empty. Ianto preferred it that way, honestly. He still had all the documents to forge, the files to alter, and he did his best work when he was able to pace a bit. For his own peace of mind, he needed this to be perfect. Gwen deserved no less. Despite her strident personality and his own feelings about her relationship with Jack, she was good-hearted, and Ianto wished her no ill. Besides, she'd broken Retcon before, and given her personality, any trigger would bring her right back to their doorstep. Or paving stone, as it were. It was vital that his work be airtight, for her safety and theirs. Every possible detail had to be tied to the cover story. Ianto looked sadly out at the empty workspace. He'd miss her, but he couldn't help but wonder how her absence would change the dynamic in the Hub, and how it would change things between himself and Jack. He also considered whether they'd need to recruit, and began to mentally compile a list of candidates and requirements. Realizing he was procrastinating, Ianto pulled out the notes he had taken during his conversation with Gwen, and began to build his fanciful construction of lies built on just enough truth to anchor them in her mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Gwen awoke to a pounding headache. Without opening her eyes, she knew that she wasn't in her own bedroom, and she could feel her father's hand (strong and warm) holding her own. Her mother's voice murmured in the background, and she could hear another, Welsh and male, answering her back. Gwen opened her eyes just a slit, then slammed them shut when the world lurched around her. She groaned and fought back the nausea. He father's grip tightened, and she heard her mother hurry to her side. The Welsh voice stopped, and her mother spoke.

"It's OK, everything is going to be fine. What's the last thing you remember?"

Gwen thought back. Things were a little blurry, but she was able to recall. "Last night I was out on a call with Andy. Andy Davidson, my partner. There was an RTA, and we needed to hold the public back while they cleaned up."

"Oh, sweetheart…" said her mother. She sounded so distraught that Gwen opened her eyes. She ignored the spinning sensation until it ceased, then focused on her parents. They looked as if they hadn't slept in days. The Welshman she had heard speaking to her mother was standing discretely by the window. He was young, handsome, and he casually wore a suit as if he were born to it. He looked… almost familiar. She scanned the rest of the room. Rhys was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Rhys? Is he all right?" asked Gwen.

The young man stepped forward. "He's in another room." Gwen started to say something, but the man held up his hand. "He's injured, but stable. You and I have some things to talk about, then we'll bring him in so you two can recover together. Mary, Geraint, if you'll excuse us?"

As her parents left time room without argument, Gwen wondered who this quiet young man was, that he had been able to convince her parents to leave her side. He sat down in the chair her father had vacated and picked up an attaché case.

"I'm Ianto Jones," the man said, answering her unvoiced question. "We worked together."

"I've never seen you before in my life!"

The man, Ianto Jones, she reminded herself, opened the attaché and took out a slim A4-sized envelope. "I was afraid that might be the case, so I brought these. Gwen, this is going to be a terrible shock to you, but you haven't worked with PC Davidson for nearly 18 months. I'm afraid you've lost quite a bit of memory."

Gwen's mind reeled. She couldn't have lost a year and a half, she couldn't! She remembered the night before, clear as day! She'd had a late shift, so she and Rhys had been able to enjoy a rare evening together before she went in. They'd gone to a little bistro, and over coffee had talked about their future. Marriage, they had decided. Not yet, but some day. They'd save up for a house, then she'd take time off from work, and they'd have children. Rhys would be a wonderful dad, look how well he looked after Gwen! She was lucky to have him. There were more exciting men out there, she knew, and more attractive ones, but that didn't matter to her. Rhys was everything she'd ever wanted in a husband. If she truly had lost 18 months of memories, she was fortunate that Rhys was still in her life. She looked down at her hand and saw an engagement ring, but no wedding band. It helped her believe what Mr. Jones had told her, that she had amnesia. Surely a proposal wouldn't have simply slipped her mind. She held up her hand questioningly.

Mr. Jones smiled. "You always were quick, Gwen Cooper. Yes, you're engaged. The wedding is only six weeks away, and it's all planned. When we bring Rhys in you may want to discuss whether to keep to schedule or postpone. If you need to reschedule, I'll be the one helping with the logistics and cost. Your condition is the fault of your employer, and we'll be doing our best to help you through this, and into the future."

"My employer?"

"About 16 months ago, you were pulled off the beat and moved into Special Ops." Mr. Jones pulled pictures and documents from the envelope and passed them to her. He continued speaking, but Gwen barely heard him as he explained her job and the events leading up to her losing her memories in a narcotics sting gone bad. She was transfixed by the sheaf of papers in her hands. There were pictures of her in places she'd never seen, casually carrying a gun. An image of her drinking coffee with Jones standing in the background, in what she would bet good money was the same suit he was wearing today. There was an NHS record of a hospital visit for a shotgun injury. A memo written in her own handwriting about the theft of biscuits from her desk dated six months after the day she'd awakened expecting it to be. There were also pictures of her with Rhys, restaurant receipts, the title to a new car, and a smaller envelope marked 'Wedding Plans'. She didn't open it. Everything supported Jones' claim that she'd lost a good deal of time.

"- you've also been given separation pay and a disability pension. I know it won't make up for your loss, but we're hoping to make your life easier."

Gwen looked up. She'd missed nearly everything Mr. Jones had said, right up until the end. "I don't have a job anymore?"

"I'm afraid not. It's not the memory loss, that should ease a bit in time. The issue is that you're now known among Cardiff's underground. For your safety, you're being relocated to Swansea; we've arranged for you to be shown a few possible homes in the area, but you can find one on your own if you prefer. We'll assist you in every way. You'll want to recover a bit, and so will Rhys. After that, if you choose to work you'll have glowing references, but we rather thought you might want to use the opportunity to start your family. I know you were excited about that before the incident."

Gwen wasn't sure what to think of that. Yes, she'd wanted to settle down with Rhys, but as far as she knew, they'd only just talked about it last night! And they'd always intended to settle in Cardiff. In any case, it was Rhys and her family she needed to talk to, not this reserved man who knew her better than she knew him. She wondered how she could tell, through his distant but kind demeanor, that he was deeply uneasy.

"What now?" She asked.

"Now you rest. I'll have Rhys brought in, and you two can sort things between you. He's lost time too, but only a week or two, so he may be able to help you fill in the gaps. He was shot while- during the incident." Mr. Jones set a card down on the bedside table. "Here's my contact information. You'll probably have questions and concerns, and you'll need to let me know what you decide about the wedding, and about housing. If you start remembering things and need help sorting them out, please don't hesitate to call. Long term, I'll check up on you regularly. Sometimes I may visit, but mostly you'll just see me around."

It seemed so simple, and yet so overwhelming. Nothing was as she expected; the world had moved forward, and she was stuck in her past. Something about that niggled in her mind, but she brushed it aside. Mr. Jones would take care of things, and Rhys would be at her side soon. "OK," she said. "I'll call you."

"I look forward to it, Gwen Cooper. I hope you find happiness in this new chapter of your life. Whether you remember it or not, you've earned it."

At his words, Gwen felt unaccountably light, as if a burden had been lifted. She felt free. She might not remember her past, but her future was unlimited. Mr. Jones patted her hand fondly, stood up, and moved toward the door. As she watched him go, she had the strong urge to ask for a cup of coffee, but she ignored it. Caffeine would do her no good right now. She reached for a glass of water instead and resolved to remember as much as possible before Rhys was brought in. Lost in thought, she never even noticed the tall man in the long coat who stood silently just outside the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! For this story I really wanted to do something different, and in every Meat resolution I've ever seen in which she was Retconned, it was incredibly punitive, and the whole team was furious with her. I tried to make this more about Gwen's behaviour being dangerous to herself, the team, and their job, rather than about her being a bad person (That story waits for another day). I wanted to write it as an unpleasant reality, one that everyone regrets the necessity of.
> 
> Um... there's a coda, but its still a bit rough.

**Author's Note:**

> I think part of the reason there are so many post-Meat stories, other than the Janto angst and the deep desire to just *whack* Gwen, is that the outcome was dependent on a decision. There was no choice with Jasmine or Tommy or Beth or the victims of the Night Travellers… but Jack could have chosen a different path with Gwen, which compels us to write all the possibilities, some better, some worse. This is my second take (Plumage was post-Meat); I suspect there will be more.


End file.
